REGRET - Allan Deya (good story books to read .txt) 📗

Prologue,

She knew he never would have let her go; just like she knew that when he asked her to stay, and he definitely would, she would probably not want to go. So she did the only thing she knew would make him be the one to leave her; she gambled on the one lie that she was sure would break any bond that he might have chosen to harbor for her after the split. She did what she at the time thought was best for both of them: from there he could concentrate on making a better life for himself and she would be free to start her better life with her daughter. It was not that she wanted to, but more that she had to: at least that was how it started out. But then the terms of contract had changed, it was a seat for one only.

Pamela Masinde had grown up in a trailer park lot; care of an alcoholic father and an abusive mother. Most of her childhood dreams had already been destroyed, either by time or circumstance by the time she was 16. She had seen some things and lived through other things: done things that some people hadn’t had cross their minds even in their sunset years. She promised herself that she would never end up like them. She would not; like her mother be swept off her feet by the handsome blockhead who just so happened to be the captain of the football team, get knocked up and have to resign herself to watching the world go by as she cared for a child that she had only kept because the risk of abortion was more upon her than on the nameless foetus that grew within her. Neither would she like her father be trapped by the demands of a choking relationship that took up all your waking time providing for only to strangle you with meaningless arguments when you got home at night.

No, she would do what she must to reach where she must get. She would use who she would, stop at nothing to achieve her objective, stoop to new lows if she had to realize her perfect life. And she had started well; moving out of home at 17 after her mother tried to pawn her off for a fix of heroine- her latest addiction. She should have known better but she had run and waited for her dad to come home. When she told him, he had slapped her, accusing her of being a whore in his house. After he had tired of hitting them, he had collapsed in his favorite chair and looking her straight in the eye told her that she had to start earning her keep.

Whatever semblance of emotion that she still had for humanity was snuffled that night. She had sneaked out that evening and never looked back. She had hot trailed it across 3 cities in just under 5 years, doing things that she still refused to apologize for; earning herself a host of enemies along the way. A few men had offered to provide for her every need; others had gone as far as professing their undying love. For all of them she felt nothing, for most she did not even give a second thought. But that was before she has landed in Nairobi, before she met the man who had literally saved her life.
She had gotten a ride from Naivasha from a couple who were disgustingly normal, with their feelings hung out for the entire world to see. They had talked much and often, trying to get her to cheer up, and succeeded only in further darkening her mood. She was still brooding about how unfair life was as she walked away from the stage where they had dropped her. Why did she have to be the one wandering aimlessly around a city she did not know in the middle of the bloody night while a woman who could not compare to her beauty on her worst day was driven to some plush home by some mollycoddled man? Why was she the one who would go hungry when fat bitches stuffed their faces in all these fancy restaurants with men who would most probably pay her a visit right after they drove their repugnant asses’ home? That was the only thing on her mind as she ambled further and further from the light, it was that exact question that stopped her from realizing she was not only lost but had just turned into a closed alley.

She might not even have noticed save for the noise that came from behind her and even then her reaction was not immediate. Her left brain identified it as a falling trash can, nothing major; her right side on the other hand quickly recounted the facts. She had been on her own for the most part of her walk down that particular street; there were no cafes, not even the seedy ones for blocks around so there should have been no cats or dogs for about the same cycle- true to which she had seen none as she turned into the side street. Interpretation, she was not alone in that which she now recognized as a dead end alley; and at that time of the night whoever it was could not be friendly. Turning slowly her worst fear was realized. 3 men walked purposefully towards her; fangs bared intentions clear and for the first time in as long as she could recall she knew fear.

She had nothing of value for them to steal, well of course except….. It struck her as ironic. That which they came for, she gave to strangers all the time with little thought of virtue or love. To her it was merely a business transaction. And technically it should have been the same even now, her life for her body, but she couldn’t help but shudder with revulsion. She had built her life around the allure that her body had over men; it was where she derived her confidence and will to live from, if they took that away, she would have nothing but her trailer trash memories and a well worn existence.
She noticed the 4th guy sneak into the alley; he bent down to put something down, or was he picking something up- she couldn’t tell her mind was already going into automatic shutdown, like it did every time sex was involved. She saw him run towards them and a small part of her ego actually smiled, thinking that at least the most handsome of them would be first- he was so taken that he couldn’t wait for the rest to finish. To her surprise though she saw one of her would be assailants fall to the ground; a shocked and frozen expression on his face, just seconds before a second one let out a shrill scream and topple like a sack of something to join his friend in the dirt. Thug number 3 whipped out a blade and turned to face the enemy, brandishing the rusted metal from side to side. The enemy on the other hand cracked his knuckles and held his ground, his gaze never moving from Pamela. The blade sliced at him through the night. He faked left but dodged right while his left leg came up to pound the shoulder holding the weapon. The arm became instantly listless; before the bastard could gather his wits about him, there was an arm choking the color out of his scared expression. The last thing he saw was a large fist headed straight for his face.

“Are you okay?” he had asked her. Pamela was too stunned to talk. It had all happened in like a second. Ask her in the morning and she probably have sworn otherwise, but right in front of her eyes were 3 able bodied men passed out on the ground while one with a not so impressive physique hovered before her. He moved to touch her and she flinched. A frown crossed his face, but as quickly as it had appeared it disappeared. He reached into his back pocket. ‘So that’s what he wanted after all?’ It was only fair, she thought to herself, after all had he not just saved her from a fate just like death? At least with him she could exert some extent of control.

She dropped the strap off one hand and smiled when the guys hand stilled in his pocket. ‘All these bastards were the same, only interested in her flesh. Well she would be fool enough tom let them enjoy it for free.’ His pulled his hand out of the pocket and let it rest on her shoulder. ‘At least it looks big enough and rough enough; she might actually derive some enjoyment from this.’ When at least a minute had passed and there had been no caress she looked up at him. His eyes bored into her with such intensity that her breath literally caught in her throat. Just then his still hand moved, but only to cover her exposed breast, before he reached into his back pocket- again. Only it did not pull out a rubber as she had originally thought but instead came out with a slip of paper which he put in her hand.

“Go there; they will be able to help you.” He had told her and with that he stood up and started to walk away. Pamela looked down and saw an address it. “Fuck you!” She hissed although she wasn’t sure what exactly had pissed her off. Was it that he had so coldly rejected her offer of unbridled erotica, was it that he had the gall to actually pity her or was it the fact that he was destroying the perception of men that she had used to squelch those pangs of guilt that sometimes bubbled to the surface? She could not be sure, in fact she did not even think about it as she launched into her tirade. “Just who the hell do you think you are, huh?” she asked. He stopped. Do you think I needed your help in the first place?” he turned to face her. “I could have handled those sonsofbitches on my own thank you very much.”

“I have no doubt that you would have.” He assured her, “But I had a bone to pick with them.” That knocked her off her crusade a bit. “Oh!” she said as she rallied her thoughts, “well you could have had the decency to wait for your own chance to, not stealing someone else’s.”
“I agree, and I apologize.” The second part of that was accompanied by a deep bow, “It won’t ever happen again.” And that came with a smile so dazzling that she could not be sure whether she stumbled because of the ordeal she had so narrowly escaped or from the effects of his manliness. “Do I look like I need your pity.” She quickly covered. “Do I look like one of those losers who have to look for help from other people? Do I seem to you the type to prostate at your feet looking for a hand out, or kiss ass to get ahead?” God damnit, the bastard was smiling while she ranted. “And what exactly is so damn funny?”

“Oh I don’t know,” he said. “I guess it’s just some time since I saw so much spirit.” Damn! It was hard keeping the mad on when the object of your wrath had not only saved you, but was quietly handsome and came complete with